Wearing White
by ChasingRainbows90
Summary: A one-shot wedding fic - because it seemed appropriate :)


**The lovely news of Rosie Marcel's marriage to Ben Stacey inspired this fic - so major congratulations to the two of them. She deserves all the happiness in the world.**

**The song in this fic is Wearing White by Martina McBride.**

**As always reviews are appreciated. **

Did it really matter? That people were talking about her, surely it was normal that people discussed the bride of her wedding day – although she was certain that in normal circumstances the discussions were probably positive in nature. With her, people seemed somewhat bemused by the fact that she'd snagged such a nice man. She'd heard the rumours, that he was trapped by her, that she had some sort of hold of him. She knew there was a wager going on – betting on when the bump would become visible at her abdomen. She knew that wouldn't happen; that her colleagues would be losing their money but what did it matter. They were cruel gossips.

_Phones were ringing, tongues were wagging_

_Hot gossip was flying_

_All around town_

_She heard the talk, the lowdown was_

_The shameless color of_

_Her wedding gown_

But it was a joke wasn't it, wearing white. She most definitely wasn't entitled to wear that colour, or at least not in the eyes of those who were good and holy. But in some strange ways, it didn't seem like such a joke to her, or at least not now. Standing before the full length mirror, there was something ethereal about wearing the white gown, almost as if it absolved her of her past indiscretions. The gown seemed to change her. It made her look different. It made her appear softer, it lessened the sharpness and steeliness that seeped from the very pores of her being. She never would have thought that a dress could have such an effect on a person.

_It's white_

_I mean really who's she trying to kid_

_Everybody knows the things she did_

_It just isn't right_

_Won't that be a sight_

_To see her wearing white_

Wearing the white dress was meant to be right of passage though wasn't it? It was something little girls were meant to dream of, the day on which she gets to be a princess marrying prince charming. She'd never really been one for fairytales – or maybe she had been once but life had taught her that happily ever afters and all that jazz only existed within the pages of storybooks and had no bearing on real life. The dreams of the fairytale wedding were from childhood innocence, and hers had been stolen long ago. Childhood hadn't been the happy time of dreams for her, it had been a fight for survival. But standing there, in the dress she could almost imagine it. The dreams of childhood. She could almost see herself as the princess, and she was almost certain that he could pass for a prince charming.

_She was wild, a wayward child_

_To put it mildly_

_She made her life a mess_

_But she was young, the past is done_

_Now she's in love_

_And putting on a new dress_

He truly was a prince of a guy. Beautiful inside and out. Yes, he'd made some mistakes. Mistakes she'd had to fight hard to forgive him for, but she knew she was not completely innocent. To those out there in the congregation though she wasn't worthy of him. She was the villain of the piece, the evil queen who'd stolen the prince from the true prince. She was ignoring it though, or at least trying to. This was her day. No, their day, their day on which to pledge a love which had not come easily to them. How many times had she had to pinch her skin to make this seem more real? It seemed like such a dream, waiting for the moment when she became his, and he became hers.

_It's white_

_And it's nobody's business what she wears_

_Anyway the truth is she don't care_

_Baby it's her life_

_She'll do what she likes_

_And she likes wearing white_

Stepping in to the church, she can see him at the altar, waiting. He's always waiting for her. He waited for her to be strong enough to love, to find the strength to admit the truth. He waited until she was able to open up to him and admit the truth that scared her more than she cared to admit. He was forever waiting for her. His love unconditional, meant for her and her alone. It was a love like nothing she had ever experienced before, and the feeling it gave her left her at times terrified. It left her open and exposed. But she knew that he was there to protect her, from the wounds caused by her past and the wounds she caused herself. He sees past her flaws, instead seeing something beautiful, worthy and lovable. Sometimes she wonders how he sees that in her, when she can't see it for herself.

_He's all nerves when he sees her_

_As far as he's concerned_

_She's an angel_

Stepping further down the aisle, she watches his smile widen. She passes by her colleagues and his family. People judging her with their eyes. He shouldn't be able to love someone like her. Somebody like her didn't deserve the love of man like him. She knew the wedding was paining his mother. He'd had a conversation with her about grandchildren – and how he didn't really see them in their future. He'd made it seem like a mutual choice, his way of protecting her but she knew. She knew her future mother in law blamed her which was right in a way but it hurt. She wanted to be liked by this woman. As she comes to halt by his side, she sees the relief in his eyes. Up until this moment she knows he's feared her running, now he can hold her here. Up until this moment, she realises a part of her has been waiting to run, to flee. But it dawns on her that she doesn't really want too – it was instinct but not what she wanted.

_In white_

_He just can't believe that she is his_

_What a crazy miracle this is_

_Who she was he don't mind_

The vows are spoken confidently. Words they had written themselves. Hers a little more haltingly than his, perhaps a little less emotive which draws a judgement from the collective when compared to the emotion of his words. His feelings laid bare before them all. But she sees it in his eyes, he knows the meaning behind her words. He sees it in the look in her eyes, the shy smile playing on her lips, the way she bows her head a little. He feels lucky standing there, watching this beautiful woman, taking her hand in his and slipping a ring on to finger. This rare and beautiful creature, this woman in a million was his wife.

_'Cause on their wedding night_

_She'll be wearing white_

_She'll be wearing white_

_She'll be wearing white_

Standing before him in the white dress, she has never looked more beautiful. It radiates from her. Nobody else matters to him in that moment. He's heard the whispers, the comments but to him it doesn't matter. Because he knows something more than them. He knows the beauty within her, the real person beneath the exterior. He feels honoured, that she's let him in. That she's let him know her because so few people have had that experience. His parents judged her on a future that had yet to come to pass, a future he couldn't predict. Her colleagues judged her on a past that was beyond her control, a past that shaped and changed her. She judged herself on the scars of her past and of little voices that tormented her with lies. But he judged her on the honest truth – and in that moment the only judgement he could make was that she was a truly beautiful bride.


End file.
